Kiss My Grits!

I'm now employed! As a waitress in a diner! While this was not part of the fantasies I entertained while filling out my grad school application, or writing approximately 500 pages of international relations theory over two years, or applying for tens of thousands of dollars worth of student loans, it is amazing how months upon months of unemployment will lower your standards. I'm actually pretty happy about my new job.

"Doula" is a funny word.

I just sent in my registration for the post-partum doula training and I'm super-excited. Despite my feelings about not using my expensive and not-exactly-shabby education, I'm really looking forward to starting this process. I think I will make a kick-ass doula. Which is what every new parent is looking for, right? And if this goes as well and is as cool as I think it will be, I'll start the process for birth doula certification in the spring.

When I first mentioned this idea to my parents, my father, who was unfamiliar with the term "doula", was less than supportive, but that's because he thought I was telling him I'd be delivering hippie babies in home births with no medical training or supervision. Once he realized I would not be pulling kids out of anyone's hoo-ha, he thought it was a great idea.

update, blah blah blah

I'm officially done applying for jobs. I can't open another one of those condescending "Thank you for your interest in our position, however..." letters without completely losing my shit. There's a weekend training session for post-partum doulas in January, and I'm signing up for it. I may or may not sign up for the birth doula session in March. I'm applying for nursing schools, which will necessitate moving back to the Cities, because of the freaking THREE YEAR waiting list at the one community college in Madison. I still want to know who these people are that have the time and fallback options to sit on a waiting list for that long. Most schools in the Cities have waiting lists too, but I don't think they're more than a year or so.

Once I get my RN certification, I plan to get certified as a nurse-midwife, which is another year. The classes are online through the U of M, though, so I can work while doing that. There's still a part of me that is really upset and pissed off that all the work (and money!) I put into my master's degree was wasted, practically speaking, even though I am excited about my new plan. It's hard letting that go.

I've been trying to write a little more. I have a new blog here, and I've got a great idea for a novel, but I'm not convinced I can write it. The boy's got a truly fantastic idea for a graphic novel, but is not convinced he can write it.

We're trying to get out of this little craptacular slump. 2006 should have been our year, but it's been tough. I'm hoping that in another ten years, when I look back on my thirties, it won't look like a string of really bad decisions peppered with a few bright spots. I would like the bright spots to be the primary focus, please.

No matter what, I'll always yell at the TV

Three months, huh? That's okay, nothing of any interest whatsoever has happened. For all intents and purposes, I've been unemployed for six months. Wheee! I did have the possibility of a dream job tantalizing me for a couple of months, until that dream, like so many others before it, was crushed. I've got an interview for a pretty promising job with the state Division of Public Health. I've got applications in any number of places. And on the back burner, we're holding on to the possibility of moving back to Minneapolis when our lease ends.

I have mixed feelings about this. I absolutely love Madison. Love it. I love the idea of having a kid here and buying a cute little old house on one of the cute little tree-filled streets that Madison is bursting with. It's a beautiful town, big enough to be interesting but small enough that I can't take it seriously when it's referred to as "The City of Madison". But there may not be anything here for me, job-wise.

When we first started discussing the possibility of moving back to the Cities, I was resistant. It felt like defeat. We've both been so adamant about not moving back, about keeping four hours between us and our families. Our car is registered in Wisconsin. We have WI driver's licenses. We registered to vote in WI, largely to express our displeasure with the "Other people's relationships can directly hurt my relationship" gay marriage amendment on the ballot. Also the right-wing tool running for governor.

But the more I've thought about it the better it sounds. It's very unlikely Em will be staying here after she graduates in May, and we really don't have any other friends. Maybe we should work on that.

My parents are moving to Ashland, where Em may also end up, next summer. It's a six-hour drive from Madison and a four-hour drive from the Cities. We absolutely loathe the six-hour drive.

Of course, now that I'm starting to say "Fuck yeah, let's go!", I will probably get a job and we'll stay in Madison. That's okay too.

Anyone seen that handbasket?

Hideous she-troll and noted idiot Ann Coulter appeared on "Hardball" last night. Responding to questions about her utterly moronic insinuations that Bill Clinton was a closeted homosexual, she admitted that she, in fact, had no basis for such notions, but countered that in any case, Al Gore was "a total fag".

I'm not even going to address the way she clearly believes it's a huge insult to call someone gay, other than to say it's asinine and childish, though use of the slur "fag" in the public media definitely pushes it beyond schoolyard trash-talk. I have two questions: one, why is this creature even given a media platform to spew the hateful garbage that she pulls out of her ass? Her books have been found by neutral parties to be riddled with lies and the worst kind of unresearched, unconfirmed bullshit that she presents as fact, plus she's a goddamn lunatic. The only place she should be doing any public speaking is a trash-strewn street corner with a half-empty bottle of Mad Dog sitting next to her.

My second question is this: how has what passes for political discourse in this country sunken so low that, first of all, Ann Coulter is considered a "political pundit", and, second of all, she's invited back on TV to call political figures fags after calling the 9/11 widows harpies whose husbands were probably about to divorce them anyway? What exactly does she have to say before she loses all credibility? I'm more than happy to talk politics with a reasonable, traditional conservative, I've done it many times, and we rarely agree on much, but none of them has ever called me a godless commie dyke (except Em, but not cause of political differences, that's just her pet name for me). I can respect a true Republican/conservative, even if I don't agree with him or her. But those people are fast losing their habitat (the plains where the conservatives roam free and roll around in their piles of untaxed money!) to the nasty wingnut fringe who resort to horrible personal attacks when their statements are shown to have no basis in logic or facts. It's just disheartening.

Crappy crappity crap crap

Yeah, so I've now been unemployed since the end of April. I have had several interviews, albeit not for anything I would be particularly ecstatic to get. The people at my dream job, the job on which I had pinned my hopes and prayed daily for an interview, finally sent me the "We received many qualified applicants" letter yesterday. This caused me to spend much of the rest of the day in tears. The jobs that I really want, well, they're not impressed by my M.A.. The admin jobs that I don't really want but am applying for because I need to work--they're impressed by the M.A., so much so that they don't want to demean me by giving me the job because I should really be doing so much better. I am completely fucked. Completely. Right now, the only solution I can think of is to go back to school, AGAIN, but this time for something like nursing, where they're handing out the jobs. I'm really at a loss, and never mind the fact that due to my unemployment, we've already gone through all our wedding money, which makes me slightly ill.

On the other hand, I'm having a creative surge. I'm knitting up a storm to finish a baby blanket for my friend before the baby gets here in August, I'm embellishing a few t-shirts with some punk rock embroidery, and I found a darkroom that I can use for a very cheap fee. I need to start the photography again and rock the multiple exposure, learn how to cut my own mats (properly this time), and get some of my stuff up around Madison. That would make me happy. Kevin wants to do the same thing with his drawings (my husband is talented), and starting a combo zine is not out of the question.

Still, a job for me needs to come up quick, or we'll be working on our zine on the street.

No more sinnin'!

Well, we did it. We got ourselves legally committed, FOR LIFE. Actually, it's pretty great. The wedding was absolutely beautiful and perfect, we had a great time, and now we don't have to spend all our free time planning, talking, and thinking about every single detail. And now I have a totally hot husband, which is what it's really all about.

And another thing

What kind of benevolent god would allow dreck like to be forced upon the public? Honestly.

So, I'm doing the job application thing. And I had my first interview in years yesterday. Although it's for a job I don't really want, it was nice to be called for an interview, if only to prove that, in fact, there is no subliminal message encrypted in my resume saying "This woman will spend all her time photocopying her ass if you let her in to your workplace."

So. I found a job opening at the University, which is great. It involves editing, social services, and a salary that is twice anything I've ever received. I have the qualifications they want. I want this job very badly. I think I deserve it. I know I'd be good at it. I'm really hoping that the employment gods will finally, finally smile on me and give me a cool job that will allow us to pay off our credit cards and afford kids, or at least a dog. Anyone reading this, please cross your fingers for me.

There are three people living in the apartment below us. Two are a couple who fight a great deal, seemingly on a schedule. They strike me as yuppies in training. They will likely get married and have many affairs. Their roommate is a douchebag with a stoner laugh, a propensity for leaving his laundry in the washing machine for days at a time, and a fondness for playing guitar and singing on their porch. He's in a band that does covers of songs by Bon Jovi and The Steve Miller Band, but they "have three or four original songs at this point." The couple is moving out in August when the lease is up, but he's hoping to be able to find some roommates so he can stay. My heart is filled with hate for him, and if there's any justice, all of his pseudo-hippie pals will be locked into leases at co-ops or something and we'll get neighbors who don't make me want to shove pins in my eyes.

I'm a little cranky. Here's the kind of day I had: while I was waiting for the bus this evening, a skinny middle-aged guy with a beard, carrying a couple of manila folders, walked past me, giving me an odd, slightly hostile look, and I seriously thought he would just reach out and give me a shove when he walked past. It was an absurd thought, and of course he didn't, but I was ready for it. The day's earlier events had led me to expect nothing less.

Googling people can be bad for your mental health. I kind of already knew that, but the point was hammered home to me yesterday when the simple act of looking up an old friend from grad school sent me into a downward spiral of self-loathing and despair.

Before that, though, several months ago, some insane curiosity mixed with boredom got the better of me and I went to Google and typed in the name of a particularly soul-sucking, self-absorbed former friend. She has a blog (you would never find this blog by typing my real name in, but privacy on the internets is not the topic for the day). It's a very bad blog, filled with hysterical spelling and grammar errors (though she's since switched to livejournal and seems to be taking advantage of the spell-check feature) and pointless self-indulgent crap (unlike my blog, which makes the world better through its very existence). But the part of it that bothers me is the picture she's using in her profile. It's a photo I took of her, way back in 1999. It's a very good picture, black and white, composed nicely, all that shit. She's easy to photograph; she has very dramatic features (just ask her, although she'll probably change "dramatic" to "stunning"). It's beyond a simple snapshot, though--I developed it and printed it myself. So whereas if I had just taken it on a little Minolta, I wouldn't care if it was up there without credit, I'm a little piqued that she's plastering it all over the web (it's currently on three separate pages that I know of) without even a mention of the photographer. I'll get over it, but copyright is important, people!

And so we move to yesterday's fiasco. I'd been thinking of this friend a bit lately, wondering what she was doing with herself. Laura might remember her--a nice girl named Jen, another redhead. She was at all of the fabulous parties we threw at the apartment on Spring Park Ave. Anyway, I looked her up, only to find that after obtaining the exact same degree as me, she went on to be hired as a political science professor at a small university in New York. Seeing this news fifteen minutes after I had finished wiping milk off the face of a child, a significant part of my job description, didn't do wonders for my self-esteem. You might say it made me feel like a very small turd. A turd who nobody wants to hire for anything more challenging than diaper-changing or alphabetizing personnel files. She was a lovely girl and I'm sure she's a great professor, I'm happy for her, but I'd be happier if I had a job teaching college classes (without having to get a PhD) and giving speeches on preserving Chinese antiquities at UNESCO conventions.

Em and I are going to Chicago next weekend and we're buying ourselves some Important Lady work clothes. She'll definitely need them this summer. I'm hoping I will.

Today's American Idol-Inspired Quote

"I don't understand why these people think that just because fart noises don't come out when they open their mouths, they're talented singers."

--Kevin

What kind of person does it take to fuck over a complete stranger who just did you a favor? Kevin got rear-ended by a guy about a month ago--he was waiting to pull out from a metered parking spot, it was snowing, the guy pulled into the spot behind him and slid into him, cracking our bumper. A cop came and said that if he filled out an accident report, someone would be getting a ticket, and Kevin felt bad for the guy, because obviously it would have been him getting the ticket. He worked for a delivery company, it was late in the day, and Kevin said, "no that's okay." Not what I would have done, but Kevin's nicer than me. Anyway, we called the guy's insurance company to file a claim, thinking we'd just go through them, as it was THE OTHER GUY'S FAULT. Little problem--the guy turns around and lies, claiming Kevin backed into him. Motherfucker. So we're stuck with a $250 deductible in return for trying not to get this worthless piece of shit in too much trouble. In situations like this, I really try, for the sake of my blood pressure, to put my faith in karma, but a large part of me wants to say "fuck that" and go slash his tires.